Leaving home was a bad idea

I had made my way up north and reached the city of Arabel by nightfall. Tired and hungry from the strains of the journey, I stopped at a tavern to get a long night’s sleep and hopefully a few beers and a warm meal. Funnily enough, I there met two other individuals who claimed to be heading to the Stonelands as well: a pale-skinned Half-elf by the name of Laendir and a relatively young dwarf who introduced himself as Nordan. Over the course of the evening we had a few rounds and shared our stories, eventually coming to the conclusion that we were all heading in the same direction so it would probably be beneficial to stick together for the time being.
 
All of a sudden, our surroundings dissipated into the shadows. Our bodies went numb and a strange, sleep-like feeling came over us.
 
When I came to, I found myself on the floor of a throne room with my companions lying next to me. The room seemed empty apart from a desk and a luxuriant chair standing near the back wall. A figure stood next to desk, looking at us expectantly. He introduced himself as Lord Godard and he disclosed to us that we were to oversee the city he had just conquered in his stead because he had business somewhere else. Three phylacteries (each of them marked by an emblem, in my case an anchor) containing our souls floated next to him and I realized that we had no choice but to comply with his request.
 
In front of the throne room we met Shamus, the chamberlain who had served the previous king and obviously wasn’t too happy about his new job. He briefed us on the current state of affairs. Looking out the window of the tower we had been teleported to, we could see the remains of a gigantic city and Shamus told us that His Majesty had basically overrun the place with hordes of undead minions. He then sent us on our first mission to get to the bottom of the current food shortage. We were to find and consult Sergeant Cornwall in Hay Street, located in the south-east of the city.
 
We spent most of our day in an attempt to fix a cart we had found after leaving the castle. The population was mostly occupied with burying their dead and life-sustaining measures. At dusk we found the Someth-Inn, one of very few buildings standing and spent the night there. The pub was run by a dwarf named Someth and his partner Henry. They seemed trustworthy enough.
 
After breakfast we made our way to Hay Street and after several unsuccessful attempts at persuading the clerk, we gave up on talking to Cornwell personally. We loaded up our cart with corn and headed back to the city centre expecting to be ambushed at any time.